More
by sea
Summary: Trowa and Quatre have just shared their first intimate moment with each other, but what does it mean anyway? Yaoi: 3x4/4x3


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# More

## [by Meerchen][1]

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In the chilly air of the space ship, their rapid breathing had slowly died down, calmed into a more normal speed rather than the hurried one of a couple in the midst of sharing physical pleasure of the intimate kind. The tingling feeling of arousal was replaced with the warm glow of release, which was nearly as pleasurable. The air conditioning hummed softly over the muted engine sounds; strange, Quatre thought, that he hadn't noticed it before. 

Although he could no longer hear his own hasty heartbeat, the breathing of Trowa remained by his side, slower now than five minutes ago. Quatre turned his head to gaze on the other occupant of the mattress they lay on, and spotted their clothes, mindlessly discarded on the floor. Beyond them, their musical instruments rested, also abandoned in a hurry. 

Suddenly feeling the chill of the air, Quatre pulled the blanket up to his chin, although it was all for nothing as the cloth just bared his naked legs instead. Laying half on the side, his legs carefully arranged in an almost comfortable position, Quatre couldn't help but to wonder at the distance between them on the mattress. 

This was not how he had imagined it would be, or even wanted it to. He turned his eyes away from the companion of his make-shift bed, suddenly acutely embarrassed over his nakedness and his closeness to Trowa while undressed. 

/Embarrassed? Preposterous, you just had sex with him for crying out loud,/ he scolded himself, yet found himself unable to resist the feeling of slight discomfort. 

/How did it happen anyway?/ Truth was he didn't really know. Suddenly it had just seemed all right - the look in Trowa's eyes, the smile, the warmth, the closeness - and they had both known it would happen, as they simultaneously lowered their instruments, eyes locked on each other in silence. 

The place did not matter, the abandoned storage room had been chosen by him for the sole reason of providing some privacy on the otherwise crowded spaceship called Peacemillion. Furnished with only empty crates, it had been the perfect hiding place, and he had brought a ratty mattress and a set of sheets a while back, placing them in the corner behind a turned over box to provide himself with a resting place. 

That was before he had brought Trowa there. Before he had revealed his secret hiding place. Now, doubt slowly poisoned his mind - what had Trowa thought when he saw the room, and more specifically, the mattress? Quatre hadn't planned it all to end up this way, really, at least not consciously. It just happened, he could truthfully say. He hadn't brought Trowa here simply to have sex with him. But it had still happened. 

One thing had just lead to another, and although he couldn't quite remember who had initiated it all, or even who gave whom the first lust-filled kiss, they had eventually ended up in a state of undress on the ship's floor, and the inevitable happened. Quatre wanted it, and Trowa did too, obviously. But still... That nagging little voice in the back of his head kept asking him uncomfortable questions, and instead of quieting it, he obeyed its wishes and turned his head away, unhappily. 

'Was it a good first time' and 'what did it all mean anyway,' the voices asked him. Considering the current situation, with Trowa out of arms reach and not watching him, it was safe to assume it was sex and nothing else. Two hormone ridden teenagers following their bodies' desires and damn the consequences. Well, they were both guys, there would be no consequences. At least not physical. 

Quatre's mind was in turmoil, however, and not even turning away from the cause of the jumbled thoughts did clear his mind. Trowa shifted on the mattress, and the silence slowly became embarrassing, focusing their thoughts on what they had so recklessly done. 

Quatre wanted to turn around and wrap his arms around Trowa, but that was what lovers did, and they were not exactly that. /Or are we?/ he wondered. He wanted to snuggle close and whisper affectionate words, but could you really do that to a bed-mate, was it not reserved only for those in love? Quatre wanted Trowa to touch him in return, and he wanted to hear those words of affection from his green-eyed love. Confused at why Trowa didn't do this, Quatre frowned for feeling too uncomfortable to do it himself. 

Truth to be told, Quatre had no idea where this little scene put them. The feelings had always been there, he supposed, at least the attraction, but rushing things like this could not possibly bring anything good. Were they lovers now? Could he call Trowa his boyfriend? Or was it just a physical act of sex, rather than making love? They hadn't said anything much at all, before it happened. Maybe the silent understanding existed only in his head. 

Risking a glance over at Trowa, his eyes met forest green ones again. The fluttery feeling all over him demanded he smiled and cuddled up close to Trowa, but Quatre was frozen in place, carefully regarding the non-expression of the young man he only a few precious moments ago had willingly and urgently given his body to. As his thoughts once again returned to the reason why he was there, he turned around, blushing unhappily. 

If there was more to it to Trowa than just two bodies sharing the same space in the cold storage room, there was nothing in his pose or expression that Quatre could see of it. Even Quatre's normally reliable instincts were unusually quiet. What did Trowa want anyway? Why didn't he move closer? Why didn't he touch Quatre? Was a 10 minute interlude in an abandoned storage room enough for him? He wished his heart would tell him. 

Quatre pulled up his knees to his chest for comfort, but winced while doing so from the soreness below. It hurt quite a bit, and he wanted to reach out to Trowa and ask the quiet boy if he hurt too, but he just closed his eyes again, willing it all away. 

It was a stupid thing they had done, granted. They should have cleared it out before, examined their reasons and expectations from the interlude. Explained their feelings, if any. Perhaps then he wouldn't have felt so abandoned now. Quatre opened his eyes and stared intently at the grey wall that disappeared in the shadows, blinking with increasing desperation at his stinging eyes. Why wouldn't Trowa touch him? Was he as embarrassed as Quatre over what had happened? 

The dry warmth of a callused hand on his shoulder snapped Quatre out of his thoughts, and he turned his head to watch Trowa sitting down beside him, shirt placed on his lap to cover up his nakedness. For a moment, they only watched each other, both expecting the other to say the thing that would make it all better. 

Quatre toyed with the few things he could say, fought the mad desire to brush it all off as nothing, a mistake. The urge to protect himself from future embarrassment and rejection was so strong he nearly just turned around again, away from Trowa. /But that would really mean the end, wouldn't it?/ Quatre remained frozen, wishing Trowa's hand hadn't left his shoulder already. 

"Do you want me to leave?" Trowa broke the silence with his nearly whispered words. 

Perhaps it was the sad tinge to his voice, perhaps the look in Trowa's eyes, but it was more than the words that made Quatre sit right up on their improvised bed, before closing the short gap between him and Trowa in one smooth motion. 

"No," Quatre wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck, before burying his head in the very same place. "No, don't leave me. Please." 

The room went quiet, again. He'd said too much. Untangling himself to move away, Quatre uttered an apology, but found himself caught up in Trowa's strong arms, and held tightly against the other's naked chest. A slow blush once again crept upon Quatre as he searched Trowa's eyes. 

"Trowa?" 

"We need to talk," Trowa simply stated. 

"Yes," Quatre sighed softly, submitting to the inevitable. 

"I think we moved too fast," Trowa fixed his gaze on Quatre, who squirmed a bit under the seriousness of the words. 

"This was definitely a stupid thing to do," Quatre admitted. "Not only do we find ourselves in an uncomfortable situation, this could affect things within the group as well," he concluded. 

Trowa eyed him quietly for a moment, and Quatre had to turn his eyes away to escape the inevitable evaluation. His words hadn't been a lie, but it felt like it when confronted with inscrutable green eyes. 

"No, that's not it," Trowa finally replied. 

"No?" Quatre turned his eyes back to Trowa, confused and relieved at the same time. 

"I think it would have been better if it happened afterwards... After we talked," Trowa told him seriously, not letting Quatre's gaze wander off again, and Quatre felt like he was being lectured by one of his well meaning sisters. 

/Afterwards?/ Quatre could do nothing more but to stare at Trowa, when he finally understood what the boy, in whose lap he was so delicately placed, was really saying. /We would still have done it, but after we talked.../ 

His heart skipped a beat, but try as he might, Quatre could still not bring up the amount of courage needed to finally admit his feelings, or in any other way acknowledge Trowa's near confession, despite practically being handed an open invitation to do so. 

For as long as he had wanted Trowa, Quatre had also added a little doubt of the other's feelings, and promised himself he would not make a total fool of himself by blurting out a confession totally out of the blue, invited to do so or not. Sex was one thing, declarations of love an entirely different matter. 

"You mean?" Quatre eventually managed, still dumbfounded, doubting his instincts. 

"Yes," Trowa agreed, cryptically, and Quatre frowned a little. What kind of a conversation was this anyway? 

"Yes," Trowa tried again, obviously struggling with the words, perhaps wanting Quatre to take the first step into unknown land. "I want you to be more than a friend," he smiled tentatively, watching Quatre's cheeks catch colour at the comment, before continuing, slowly, hesitantly. "I think I'm in love with you. I want to find out. If you'll have me, that is," Trowa added, voice coloured with apprehension. 

"Of course!" Quatre finally blurted out an overjoyed semi- confession of sorts, laughing a little by the tension, and the slightly relieved look on Trowa's face. 

Pulling closer to Trowa again, Quatre knew he needed to do more than just utter those words, but it felt like reality was moving in fast forward, and he in slow motion. Happy tears made their way down Quatre's cheeks, and the bottled up feelings he meant to express were caught up behind little helpless shivers of emotion. 

Finally, but not until after taking considerable time to compose himself, Quatre managed to transform his feelings into words. "I think I love you too, Trowa." 

A more comfortable silence settled over the chilly room, both boys lost in thought and the feeling of the other against their still naked skin. Quatre traced little patterns across Trowa's back, smiling although no one could see him. It had all moved so fast. In less than thirty minutes, most of his great wants and needs had been fulfilled, and many of his fears being touched upon. But the result - being place in Trowa's lap, with his arms around the green eyed youth's neck, and that dreaded confession out of the way - was very satisfying. 

"So it's settled, then?" Trowa murmured. 

"Yes, I suppose," Quatre mused, nuzzling Trowa's neck affectionately, if a bit shyly. Trowa shifted to allow Quatre easier access. 

"You still haven't told me," Trowa reminded him gently. 

"Hm?" 

"What do you want us to be?" Trowa's low voice was close by Quatre's ear. 

"Everything?" Quatre tentatively tried, smiling as the great weight previously settled on his shoulders lifted to disappear. He nearly laughed at the delirious feeling the insignificant word evoked, but knew it held a much bigger truth. "I want to wake up by your side every morning, I want to see you smile, I want to touch you, make love to you, share my life with you. I want to love you, want you to love me," he rambled on, fears finally forgotten. Then he stopped, a little out of breath, and stunned into silence by Trowa's smile. 

"What do you want, Trowa?" Quatre asked him in return, shyly, smiling affectionately back at the green-eyed boy, finally feeling comfortable doing so. 

"More," Trowa whispered against Quatre's lips, before silencing them both with their first real kiss. 

-end-  
  


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   [1]: mailto:sea@txq.nu



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